It Was About Time
by Siri02
Summary: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wiza
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Harry Potter, except my own copies of the books which I waited until midnight to get, of course.

**Summary**: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wizarding World and what is he up to now? Will he ever go back to his world? POST-HOGWARTS, POSSIBLE SLASH.

**A/N**: I know, I was supposed to continue _The Way Back_ – but it still hasn't been updated yet. I'M SORRY! I'm just weird like that. Anyway, this idea just popped into my head and I just HAD to get it down and yes, I know there are many fics out there that have Harry leaving the Wizarding World and there are some very good ones out there. I just hope this interests you enough! I'm also sorry for the short length but it is the prologue, after all.

Oh yes, one more thing. I'm not sure about the rating so just to be sure, it's going to be the equivalent of PG-13 so my fic won't get knocked off or anything but there should be nothing explicit. I'll update the rating if it needs to be changed.

Enjoy!

Siri

10.06.06

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

_It Was About Time_

Prologue

"Avada Kedavra!" The ruby-eyed creature roared. As a green light started to form, a young, raven-haired man rolled out of range of the potentially deadly curse just as it sped past him, missing him by mere inches.

"Impedimenta! Stupefy!" he yelled in quick succession.

The taller man who wore malice and darkness like a cloak disappeared with a crack only to appear behind the smaller man. The younger man whirled in a perfect 180 degrees only to come face-to-face with an ebony wand, point blank. He froze. A pale, lipless mouth was stretched over pointed teeth in a hideous attempt at a smile.

"So, _Potter_." The man spat, while holding the seventeen-year-old at wand point. "It looks as if I get the upper hand this time. The great Harry Potter will be nothing more than a story and I will still be here in my rightful place." An evil smirk crossed his face. "I wonder what will happen to your friends…?" Harry glared at his arch nemesis at the not-so-subtle threat.

"Nothing will happen. You won't be alive to do anything." He said with complete confidence, his emerald eyes mentally burning a hole through Voldemort's head with the extent of his anger. The addressed man showed no sign to have heard the young man except for a slight twitch of his right eye and the flaring of his slit-like nostrils. Harry smirked and he shifted as he subtly slid his free hand into his robes.

"So, _Tom_." He stressed the word, unconsciously mimicking his rival. "Feeling a bit twitchy today, aren't you? Do you feel your end already at the hands of a seventeen-year-old boy?" The Dark Lord of that age snarled and made a slashing motion with his wand – but not before Harry did the same. The last thing Lord Voldemort saw was a flash of metal, an intense wrenching pain as his innards spilled out – and nothing more.

Harry stared down at what his work had wrought with a face set with lips pressed together and an intense gaze. The creature that had put himself and many others through so much ache and hardship, so much bloodshed and the growing grave plots throughout the world was now laying in his own gore. Harry let the steel sword that he had hidden in his robes to do the deed fall to the ground with a muffled thud from the matted grass covering the ground, still stained with the blood of Pure Evil. Without a word, he turned around and left the carnage of the battlefield. He ignored the remaining people who had stopped to gawk at the corpse and at him as he left calmly, only pausing to nod at a tall sallow-skinned man clad in the thin fabric of the Death Eaters' robes. The man's lips twitched a bit before motioning with his hand.

Harry hesitated for a moment at the high-pitched screams calling him back before he disapparated when he was at the edge of the field where the red stains ended and the forest began.

The last thing people saw from him was a sad smile and a slight wave when Harry turned around to look once more at what he was going to leave behind and the backdrop of a magnificent castle that was his home for the past seven years framed by twinkling stars. It was what he _needed_ to leave behind for his own sake.

His duty was done and he was finished with it all.

It was about time he became Harry without anyone prostrating before him or treating him like he did something supposedly worthwhile at the tender age of one, while the only thing that happened was his newfound status as "orphan". It was about time he made a name for himself instead of being born into it.

By the time a bushy-haired brunette arrived there, out-of-breath and panting, it was too late.

Harry was gone and if he had it his way, it was forever.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

**A/N**: So… does it have potential or does it need work?

Thanks for reading!


	2. The Problem With Owls

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Harry Potter, except my own copies of the books which I waited until midnight to get, of course.

**Summary**: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wizarding World and what is he up to now? Will he ever go back to his world? POST-HOGWARTS, POSSIBLE SLASH.

**A/N**: Here's the first chapter! Sorry it's a bit short but it's something! This is dedicated with a bushel-ful of chocolate chips to my reviewer Remember How I Used to Be!

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

_It Was About Time_

Chapter 1 – The Problem With Owls

_Tap-tap tap. Tap. Tap-tap._

A young man who was sitting behind a large desk glared out the window at a pair of owls, his arms crossed and his foot tapping on the floor. His eyes narrowed further as the owls continued their incessant tapping upon his window.

_Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap—_

Then the phone began to ring, effectively cutting off the racket coming from the window. The man glanced at the offending item only to find the bulb that was lit was indicating the caller was his secretary. He made to pick it up until the owls began to annoy him with their tapping. His face snapped back towards the two creatures he wished upon Hades before the door slammed open, revealing a flushed young woman scanning the room frantically.

"Mr. James! What is that—" A young woman burst into the room to find two verdant eyes staring straight at her under furrowed eyebrows. The woman blushed under the intense gaze of her boss. She cleared her throat. "Uh… Sorry, sir, but what _is_ that noise?" The man merely raised an eyebrow before her question was answered for her.

_Tap-tap-tap. Taptaptaptap. Tap._

"That, Miss. Garland, is what is making the noise." He nodded at the owls, who were still under the impression that he still wanted to relieve them of their burden after ignoring them – or attempting to ignore them – for the past ten minutes. In truth, he could care less. A smile tugged at his lips as he observed his secretary's astonished face and he waited for her to say something besides gawk at the two stubborn owls.

"Sir? What are they doing here?"

"I have absolutely no clue. I certainly didn't invite them."

"Oh. Well, uh, if you need me, just— I'll be just out there!" She gestured wildly with her hand in the general direction of the door and she quickly left.

The employees of Spero Orphanages all knew their boss was a bit odd and his past was as mysterious as the Bermuda Triangle, but they liked and respected him and he was fair. Of course, they weren't always this understanding. They had all learned to not ask questions after a poor fellow by the name of John questioned Evan James once a year back. The John fellow was scared out of his wits as when he came out of the boss' office, there was a suspicious-looking stain in the front of his trousers. Till this day, John never told anyone what had exactly happened that day in Evan James' office.

Yes, their boss was a nice, gentle man who was formidable at the same time. He was the best choice for the job of the founder of the chain of Spero Orphanages running up and down the West Coast which currently totaled at eleven and housed over six thousand orphans, even though he was only eighteen when he founded it.

Angela Garland smiled. Evan James was rather easy on the eyes as well and his gorgeous English accent was to die for and he apparently wasn't lacking in the brain department either. In fact, many of the female employees and several male employees had many fantasies with him playing a star role. No one would admit it anyway, though everyone already knew. She suppressed a sigh. As far as she knew, he could be married… though there was a handsome man who regularly stopped by and left with the boss. Angela's eyes sparkled, if she couldn't have him, at least someone else did. The man worked way too much and he deserved of a break.

As the door clicked shut, the head of a chain of prospering orphanages that he had started a little over two years before shook his head in amusement. He knew his employees were always wondering about him but this was for the best. He no longer associated himself with his old life and that was how it is. Of course, it would be better if the idiotic little creatures quit tapping on his window! Evan let out an exasperated sigh as another barrage of taps filled the room.

With a smooth movement, he stood up and opened the window at long last to let the two owls in. Or at least he only saw two.

Instead, at least ten owls rushed in with the first two to rest on his desk, resembling a mass of quivering feathers albeit with multiple pairs of eyes staring at him balefully. Evan's lips thinned as he surveyed the group and he took care of the letters and parcels that were attached to the owls.

"C'mon. Let's go! Go on!" He ushered the owls out his window but one just would not budge. James glared at it and it glared back at him. The owl gave a short, beseeching hoot. "Just go back to her! She should know by now I want nothing of that world! Nothing!" Towards the end, his arms were waving erratically around him, showing his frustration and impatience at the stubborn owl and his old friends. The owl gave a soft hoot and sadly glanced at him one last time before leaving the room in a soft flurry of feathers.

Evan expelled a breath of air as he dropped into his chair, a hand massaging his temples as he attempted to relieve his headache. Every year on the anniversary of the Final Battle, people would always send him mail that he never opened with Hermione's owl at the head of it. Looking at the small pile of letters written on heavy, cream parchment, he felt a small feeling of remorse but he quickly disregarded it.

He had had enough of bloodshed and being placed on a pedestal just because his parents died. If he went back now, he would probably be even more famous than before and it was something he wanted nothing of. He did miss his friends, yes, and the friends he had made during the war but it was a necessary sacrifice for his own sense of self. Pulling out his wand, the Boy-Who-Lived once known as Harry James Potter evanesco-ed the letters from his desk and settled his eyes on the paperwork scattered across his desk.

He moved his gaze around the room to the large windows, now cleared of owls of any kind, color, and shape, and was now overlooking the buildings, sky scrapers, and mountains of Los Angeles, to the set of bookshelves completely covering one wall and filled with tomes of all types. He muffled a chuckle as he looked upon his pet guppies in a fifteen-gallon tank off to the corner chasing each other around the little stone cave without a care. He leaned back his wing-backed chair and propped his feet on his desk, deliberately placing them atop a stack of papers and he looked at a picture framed in silver that sat in on his desk.

The picture was of a tall, slim young man with brown hair and grey eyes smiling back at him. Evan smiled.

Yes, Evan James liked his life now. He was giving children that were once like him new hope and a chance for a new life. It made him feel pretty good helping them. He also made a name for himself with his own two hands and his beloved orphanages and the kids within made it ten times better and he had a boyfriend that loved him and he loved back.

He just hated the paperwork with his whole being.

Evan sat up again and scowled at the stack of paper he moved towards him and started on them, a fountain pen in one hand, his other hand propping his head up.

Throughout the entire day, while doing his job, he ignored a little voice telling him to go back to the Wizarding World and an empty space inside that had been empty ever since he had left England.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

**A/N**: Liked it? Hated it? Suggestions? Comments? It's what the review button's for!

In the next installment: We meet Harry/Evan's boyfriend and we get a little surprise…

Thanks for reading!

Siri

11.02.06


	3. Realizations

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Harry Potter, except my own copies of the books which I waited until midnight to get, of course.

**Summary**: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wizarding World and what is he up to now? Will he ever go back to his world? POST-HOGWARTS, POSSIBLE SLASH.

**Warnings**: Light slash action

**A/N**: Wow.. I updated BEFORE my one week limit! Haha… and just a little tidbit of information…

Harry is going to be called Evan from now on as it might get a little confusing if I use both unless too many people complain.

I have no experience with cooking whatsoever besides cereal, microwaveable foods, oatmeal, cookies, cake, and other instant edibles so please do not fault me if there's something wrong with how Harry's making his food, no matter how vague it is.

I have a tentative plan on what's going to happen in the later chapters, but if you'd like to see something happen or have a suggestion, feel free to tell me! I'm always welcome to more ideas!

I'm planning on taking this slow so it will be a couple more chapters or so until Harry/Evan is entirely exposed to the Wizarding world again.

Also, thanks to my reviewers: Seku238

And with a superb demonstration of my time management skills (ignoring the calls for attention from my homework and writing between class times) and with no further ado, here's the next one! Please review!

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

_It Was About Time_

Chapter 2 – Realizations

The fragrant smell of lemon-pepper chicken filled the air as it sizzled in the skillet. A soft humming could be heard coming from a raven-haired man as he made sure his chicken didn't burn. Leaning forward a bit, he sniffed his masterpiece, made a thoughtful face, then reached for a wedge of lemon before drizzling a bit more of the tart juice onto his chicken. Making another face, he crossed the kitchen to his cookbook that was propped and opened to a page titled _Lemon Pepper Chicken with Brown Rice_ for reference before looking slightly panicked for a second as he rushed to his rice to check up on that.

There was a moment of silence as he prodded the rice and popped a grain into his mouth. A sigh of relief came soon afterwards as he reassured himself that his rice wasn't ruined in any way, shape, or form. With a small smile, he opened an overhanging cabinet and took out two dishes and placed them on the countertop before scooping the rice onto the plates. Walking over to his chicken, he stared at it, glanced at the cookbook, the clock, and his rice consecutively, he gave a small nod and picked up the skillet and transferred two chicken breasts onto the plates and placed a garnish of parsley and a slice of lemon on top. With a pleased smile, he picked the two plates up and crossed into the dining room and placed the two dishes in front of their respective chairs, sat down, and waited.

A minute later, his eyebrows were furrowed in thought. _I forgot something. What did I forget? _His eyes scanned the table in hopes of it telling him what it was he forgot but it was futile. There was a small crystal vase with a single long-stem rose, the plates with their still-steaming food was out at their respective spots and the silverware were sparkling in the light emitting from the ceiling. Out of nowhere, a door slammed to his right and he jumped up, his mind forgetting his dilemma for the moment as he studied the room for any intruders. Evan's stance eased up when he saw his more-than-welcome "intruder" who stood in the entryway into the dining room.

"Honestly, Evan. I still don't know why you keep on doing that. You know I am the only one who comes in here with a bang." The man gave a playful, little smirk, leaning casually against the frame as he studied his lover, then the layout. "Nice." An eyebrow rose. "I suppose that we'll be parched throughout the entire occasion?" This elicited a puzzled look on Evan's face before the hidden message dawned on him and his eyes widened.

"I _knew_ I forgot something!" Turning back towards the kitchen, he spared a glance at the man. "Thanks Darren! And sit down!"

"Yes, sir!" Came the response. A snort could be heard coming from the kitchen. Darren Landry observed the set up with a grin as he waited for their drinks to arrive. _He is so adorable_, he thought. Closing his eyes, he took a deep sniff, savoring the tangy aroma coming from his beautifully prepared meal. _He certainly outdid himself._

Right then, he saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see Evan walking in with two glasses of red wine.

"Took out the good stuff, huh?"

Evan laughed. "I do try, you know." Then he looked pensive for a moment. "So… how is it?"

"The place is always nice. I like the little décor and the plate and how my knife, fork, and spoon are all placed perfectly straight next to—"

"Not that!," Evan mock-glared. "The food! How's the food!" Darren muffled a laugh before answering.

"I haven't touched it yet." He opened his mouth the say more but was cut off by a slightly distraught Evan.

"It's not good." He said with a resigned tone.

Darren glared. "I was waiting for you, you idiot!" Evan looked decidedly happier.

"But I'm _your_ idiot."

"Yes."

The two looked at each other, eyes seemingly looking into the soul before snapping out of it. Evan cleared his throat.

"The food's getting cool. We should, uh, eat."

With that, gentle clinks of metal against porcelain plates occasionally lifted the silence and the two men savored their alone-time with each other, snatching quick looks at the other when they thought they weren't looking. It was overall a romantic experience for the two of them but the silence had to be broken sometime.

"So how's school?"

"The usual."

There was a slight pause and the sound of a knife against the plate was heard.

"How's work?"

"I hate paperwork. I really do." Darren laughed at that.

"Well, you are the Big Guy."

"The 'big guy'?"

"You know, the head honcho! The boss! The Big Guy!" Evan snorted into his rice, making a kernel roll onto the table. Darren smirked. "Well, you're one of a kind, I'll give you that. Even your food is afraid of you!"

Evan rolled his eyes as he rescued the rice kernel from the table and placed it carefully on the edge of the dish.

"So are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"I have work, Darren. You know that." There was a pause. "Rather busy day tomorrow, too. I'm going to make a trip to several of my orphanages and see how things are." Darren nodded in an all-knowing manner.

"Yes, like I said, you are _the_ Big Guy." Evan rolled his eyes before letting the conversation go. Darren grinned at his win and turned his attention to the remaining chicken.

IOI

"Why does he do this? It's been three years! Three! Hermione, you're smart. Why can't you find him?"

Hermione watched as her husband, Ronald Bilius Weasley, paced across the living room floor, wearing a track through the carpet. He had been ranting about their best friend's stubbornness for the past fourteen minutes. She stifled a sigh before shifting her fourteen-month old baby, Jason Harry Weasley, as her arms were starting to fall asleep.

"I don't know, Ron. Harry must have cast some sort of unplottable charm or something. We've gone over this. We just have to wait until Aristotle comes back!" Her eyes were sparkling with something only she knew. Finally, after almost twenty-one years, Ron could finally read girls so he saw that look in his wife's eyes. To Hermione, it was about time he got it most of the time, though it became a pain after a while.

"Why do you look like that? Is there something you want to tell me? Anything at all?" He stopped and a look she knew all-too-well crossed his face. "And why did you have to name him Aristotle?" He made a face.

"Aristotle is a fine name for an intelligent owl!" Then she adopted an all-too innocent look. "And there's nothing I want to tell you. At least not yet." A smug look crossed her face.

" 'Mione!" Ron practically whined.

Hermione smiled. _Some things just never change._ "You'll find out later." She reassured him before glancing out the window again.

Ron looked at his wife and sighed, shaking his head. _Some things just never change_, he thought, and he looked out the window, anticipating Aristotle to come back as he did every year, empty-handed.

IOI

"Now tell me why we're at the market on our date. Is this a British thing?" Darren looked at Evan looking through various packs and boxes of pasta. "It is, isn't it."

"Nope." Laughter was in his voice as he compared Angel Hair and Spaghetti. "It's an Evan kind-of-thing."

"Oh, of course. How _could_ I forget?" Evan snorted.

"C'mon, help me! I'm shopping for you, if you must know. Next time, it's your turn to cook."

"Wait, what? When did we decide this?"

"_I_ decided this when _you_ kept on avoiding answering my question!"

"I told you! Your cooking is good! It's more than good! It's great!"

"You told me after an hour of me asking you! It's your turn now. Lets see how you feel when you start doubting your cooking skills!"

Darren harrumphed before he picked up a random pack of something called "Bumbola". He stared at it a bit more, attempting to figure out what in the world "Bumbola" was. He gave up.

"Hey, Evan."

Evan "hmmm"'ed.

"What is bumbola?" Darren pronounced the new word slowly, trying to get a feel of it. Evan stopped perusing a section with a bunch of packets labeled 'fetuccine' to look over at his lover. Staring at the packet of bumbola thoughtfully, he finally answered in a bright tone of voice.

"I have absolutely no clue!" Darren, who was anticipating an answer other than that looked a little disappointed. "But, I have figured out what you can make!" Darren frowned a bit.

"What?"

"Bumbola!" Evan exclaimed with a flourish.

Darren groaned. "You have got to be joking! I don't even know what it is, nevermind make it!" He looked over at Evan for a little bit of sympathy. He didn't get it.

"That's the fun part! Oh, c'mon Darren. I'll help if it makes you feel better." Seeing Darren grin, Evan hurriedly continued, effectively wiping off Darren's thrilled expression. "I meant help as in guiding. I won't be touching the food until it's done. There is no way I'm going to end up cooking for you!"

"Fine." He grumbled. Evan leaned up a little and gave Darren a little peck on the lips. In turn, Darren melted. He glared at his boyfriend when the starry-eyed look that had dominated his facial expression disappeared. "I hate it when you do that."

Evan chuckled. "I know. Why else do you think I do it?" He deftly plucked the bag of bumbola and dropped it into their shopping cart before pushing it before him. "Now for the sauce!," he declared.

Darren shook his head and followed obediently after his over-enthusiastic boyfriend further down the aisle. Looking at the rows upon rows of sauce of all colors, flavors, and consistencies, he felt a headache coming on. He looked up towards the ceiling and pleaded to the god of redemption to revoke whatever wrongs he had done so the torture would stop. When he was finished with his pleading, he looked over at Evan only to see him staring back with an amused look on his face.

"Better?"

"No."

Evan smiled before turning to the jars. "What do you want to make?"

"I don't want to make anything but since you're so excited about this, I think this is a sign that you should do it." There was a hopeful tone to his voice.

"OK, thanks! I'll pick for you!"

Darren groaned before attempting to pick out a jar of sauce out of the millions there that looked simple enough for him to do.

"How charming of you," he said dryly.

He turned back to Evan only to see that he had frozen, his hand on the way to picking up a jar of red tomato sauce, his face stricken as something obviously important came to light. Leaning closer to ask what was the matter, Darren could hear the word "charm' uttered softly over and over again.

IOI

About half a world away, a couple stood excited in front of an open window, watching as a little speck turned into a vague form of an owl as it swooped into the living room and landed on the arm of a couch. At first glance, the couple knew the owl didn't bring anything with him. With determined strides, the woman strode up to the owl and held out her arm. Intoning a spell on the owl, she turned back to her husband who had a confused look plastered on his face.

"He's carrying nothing, again." He pointed out the obvious, looking rather put out.

"That's where you're wrong." She had a pleased look on her face. "Harry forgot to take it off!" If anything, that declaration only made the man look even more confused than before and he studied the owl more closely this time before replying.

"Take what off? I'm glad he didn't take anything off! I would like our owl to be fully feathered, thank you very much."

Hermione suppressed a groan. "No. I have been placing a tracing and locating charm on Aristotle every time I send him to Harry. This time, Harry forgot to take it off."

She gave a predatory smile.

"Harry is in the United States. In a place called Los Angeles, to be exact."

Ron looked at his wife in amazement before scooping her up in his arms, beaming at his wife. He gave her a loud and thorough kiss.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

Hermione nodded, a smile splitting her face before her husband's next patented Ron Comment made her snort.

"Where is this Los Angeles, anyway?"

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

**A/N**: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! I definitely had fun writing it. Please review!

Next installment: Harry figures out something important that he forgot and panics a bit. He meets someone rather unexpected along the way and tells Darren a certain BIG something about his past. Hermione and Ron make plans to 'surprise' their missing friend.

Siri

11.03.06


	4. Closer to the Truth

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Harry Potter, except my own copies of the books which I waited until midnight to get, of course.

**Summary**: Harry Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen. Afterwards, he was seen walking off the battlefield and it was the last that anyone in the Wizarding World ever saw of him again – even his friends. What happened to the Hero of the Wizarding World and what is he up to now? Will he ever go back to his world? POST-HOGWARTS, POSSIBLE SLASH.

**A/N**: Here's the next one and thanks to the people who read and reviewed! It lets me know how you feel and what you want/are looking for in here so I have a better idea of what to put next.

That takes me to my next point. I have over 550 hits for this fic but only 3 reviews. I'm not stingy with my chapters and they'll still pop out and such but it _is_ nice to know what you guys think of this, whether if it's good, bad, or you're just neutral. Tell me what you want and what you think! It helps me figure out outlines for upcoming chapters more easily and they pop out more quickly.

Thanks and enjoy! 

Siri

11.10.06

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

_It Was About Time_

Chapter 3 – Closer to the Truth

"Evan?" Darren reached out to touch his boyfriend's arm but the reaction that he received was unexpected; Evan flinched at the touch and looked up wildly at Darren.

"Bloody hell." Darren's eyebrows rose at that as Evan rarely cursed. It made him worried. This time, he didn't reach out for Evan but he did take a step closer.

"Evan? Is everything okay?" Evan appeared to come to as his eyes focused on his boyfriend and Darren could detect a spark of fear in their depths.

"The charm! I forgot about the bloody charm! Bloody hell. She's going to get here! They're going to find me," he practically rambled and he suddenly unfroze as he replaced the jar of tomato sauce on the shelf and started to walk out of the aisle, steadily picking up the pace. By the time he got to the end of the aisle, he was at a full-out run with Darren right at his heels trying to catch up and wondering what revelation made Evan act like the world was ending.

"Evan!" He called out. "Wait up!" The only response he got was his boyfriend reaching back to grab his hand to pull him along faster. Along the way, Evan's shoulder slammed into a tall, blonde man who scowled at them.

"Watch it, you bloody bastard!" Darren hastily turned around at that to yell out "sorry" to a grey-eyed man who had a murderous expression plastered on his face before turning to pay attention to where they were going. The pair left the grocer's to shouts of "Slow down, you idiots", incredulous stares, and an elderly lady who seemed to be hyperventilating and experiencing a heart attack. If Darren's face wasn't already flushed with the run and out-of-breath, he would have snorted at the woman's priceless facial expression.

Evan let his hand go as they got to their sports car, a black Audi TT, the one and only car Evan owned, mostly at Darren's insistence, and slid into it, barely giving Darren enough time to get in before driving out of the parking lot with a screech. Throughout the ride back, Darren studied his boyfriend. His eyes were staring determinedly ahead and his hands were gripping the steering wheel so firmly that his knuckles were paper white. Darren opened his mouth to repeat his earlier question but stopped as he spotted an almost indiscernible shake of the head and a slight thinning of the lips. Suppressing a frustrated growl, he leaned back in the seat and crossed his arms for the remainder of the trip.

Unlike Evan who was determined not to talk, Darren was determined to find out what was wrong and he would in time. He was like Evan in that way: utterly and completely stubborn.

IOI

Grey eyes narrowed as they followed the couple rushing out the automatic sliding doors of the grocers'. There was something about that man that reminded him of _someone_ – he just couldn't figure out who. One thing he was sure of, though, was that whoever it was, he was important.

"Young man?" An elderly lady was standing next to him looking flustered with a hand fluttering over her chest looked up at him hopefully. The man forced a smile.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Can you help me get that?" A hand gestured at a jar of preserved peaches. "I can't seem to reach it."

He barely stopped a sneer from forming before doing as asked.

_Bloody muggles_, he thought, all previous thoughts concerning the familiar man forgotten for the time being.

IOI

Twin sounds of doors slamming echoed through the underground parking garage.

"So?" Darren looked at Evan expectantly, waiting for an explanation to his behavior. Evan shook his head.

"Later." Darren opened his mouth to protest but Evan spotted that and he quickly continued. "When we get inside." Darren sighed and ran a hand through his hair before following Evan into the apartment.

Evan locked the door and he turned around only to meet his boyfriend who looked severely annoyed. He knew that his earlier behavior had perked Darren's curiosity tremendously and his numerous refusals to answer had Darren at the threshold before his patience snapped. Making up his mind about what to do next, he motioned for his boyfriend to sit down and he went over to his phone to call his secretary. Glancing back at Darren, he gulped.

The expression on his face was a step away from murderous.

"Just after this call. Please." Evan pleaded before hearing someone pick up. "Angela?"

"Mr. James?" The voice sounded puzzled.

"Yes. I need something for you do to."

"That is my job, you know. I know what it consists of but if you insist on reminding—" came the dry reply before it was interrupted.

"I know!" Evan snapped. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and continued in a calmer tone. "Sorry. I mean I know. This is really important, okay?"

"Uh, yes sir." Came the hesitant reply, shocked at the outburst from the normally laidback man. "Just tell me what you need."

"Okay, over the next couple of days, a young brunette with curly brown hair will come to the office asking for a certain Harry Potter. She may also be accompanied by a red-headed man. Do you follow me?"

"Yes sir."

"When they come, do whatever you need to but whatever it is you do, make sure to make them think that this Harry Potter is no longer there. I don't care how or what you do, just make sure that they leave."

"Hmm… yes sir, but this Harry Potter _was_ never here." At the pause at the other end of the line, Angela stopped her line of thought as she had no inclination to try the person's patience who was obviously in no mood for anyone to do so. Most importantly, this was the same person who signed her paycheck. "Uh, never mind… Is something wrong?" Evan let out a sigh.

"No, nothing. Just make sure that you do exactly that. Make them get off this Harry's back."

"I've got everything down. You can count on me."

"I know." Evan glanced at Darren who now had an eyebrow raised. "Well, I'll just let you get on with what you were doing. Thanks, Angela."

"No problem, boss!" Evan snorted as he hung up. Turning around, he cleared his throat as he wrung his hands together and fidgeted. He had no idea what to say or where to start.

"Why don't you sit down, Evan?" Darren said and Evan did just that. He looked up into the grey eyes.

"I, uh, don't know where to start."

"From the beginning always works." Evan's heart nearly stopped at those words. In truth, he had been ready to tell Darren about his past for a while. After all, he felt rude to keep such a big secret from the man he loved. The thing was that there was never a right time and he was afraid of Darren's reaction. In fact, he was still afraid of Darren's reaction.

"I- I dunno." Darren sighed.

"It's not as if you killed anyone! Just tell me." At what Darren said, Evan stiffened before forcing his muscles to relax. He gave a weak chuckle.

"Heh... not as if I killed anyone." He mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

"I- I just don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, it's pretty big and…" Evan trailed off.

"And?"

"I don't want you to leave me or anything," Evan spoke in a rush, his eyes anywhere but on his boyfriend. Darren's eyes softened as he reached over to caress Evan's hands.

"I won't. Just tell me." He replied softly.

Harry looked up slowly and slowly nodded his head.

"All right. Yes. Okay." He swallowed hard before he started a tale – his tale – that could change everything between them… or make it even better. As he started to speak, he reverted back to the childhood action of crossing his fingers for luck. "What do you know about me so far?" Darren 'hmmm'ed as he thought the question through.

"Not much really. I know you were an orphan, but I don't know how that came to be. I know you went to a boarding school in the U.K. but nothing else besides that. Honestly, now that I think about it, I don't know much about you, besides what you have done since I've met you." He furrowed his eyebrows. "What was so big that you kept everything from me?"

Evan took a deep breath and chose to ignore the last question, not that it mattered much. Darren seemed to be saying that more to himself than not. Darren's face snapped back to Evan's as he started, giving his full, undivided attention.

"Well, I was born in the U.K. to a James and Lily Potter." Darren inhaled sharply at the familiar name. "A little over a year later, they were both murdered in their home and this… killer, self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, tried to do me in as well but he didn't succeed. I was rescued from the wreckage by some of my parents' friends and sent to live with my aunt and uncle." There was a pause here as Evan seemed to relieve everything he was retelling as his eyes were glazed over. "Lets just say life there wasn't very nice. They had a son, Dudley, who was the epitome of a spoiled brat. When I was eleven, I received an invitation to a boarding school in Scotland and I attended the school for the next seven years and I had two best friends: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. In third year, I met my godfather, but he died in fifth year. Ever since my fourth year, though, a war went on." Darren felt the need to question this "fact" but decided to wait until Evan was finished. "The leader of the opposing side was the same… man who killed my parents and so many others. I fought in it along with a host of other people I knew. People died. Too many people, really, and I was an important figure in this war. A hero of a sort, really."

"Wait… what? You're only a teenager! A kid! How can you be an important figure in this war? And there has been no news of a war like this in the U.K. in a while! And what kind of ridiculous name is 'Lord Voldemort'?!" Darren nearly exploded. Evan, in contrast, continued calmly, though he smirked at the last comment.

"You'll get all your answers in time, Darren. Anyway, after the war was done, I was through with it all. I left. I came to the United States to see if there was something out there for me and a year later and going through three states and ultimately settling in California, I found my own business."

"More than a business," snorted Darren. Evan rolled his eyes.

"And… I guess that's the summary. You know the rest."

His eyes narrowed. "You haven't told me all of it though. There's still something else, something big. You're still stalling." Evan expelled a heavy breath and nodded.

"Yes. See, this world is split into two races." Evan stopped here. Darren clenched his sweating hands in anticipation even though he was thoroughly puzzled at the last sentence said. "There are the muggles, the non-magic people, and the wizard-kind." Evan looked into Darren's astonished face. "I'm a wizard, Darren. I can do magic."

Evan winced as he waited for the bomb to drop.

IOI

"Come on, Ron! We'll miss our departure time!"

"Hermione! We're five minutes early! We'll get there in time."

"We were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, Ron, but since you just had to stop for some food, we're late!"

"Don't blame this on me! It was your fault as well! You had to check up on Jason—" A loud disembodied voice echoed through the large facility, effectively cutting him off.

"PORTKEYS NUMBER 221 THROUGH 251 PLEASE ARRIVE AT PORTKEY GATE NUMBER 43 FOR DEPARTURE IN FOUR MINUTES. THANK YOU FOR RELYING ON THE INTERNATIONAL WIZARDING PORTKEY TERMINAL FOR YOUR TRAVELING. HAVE A MAGICAL JOURNEY AND I HOPE YOU WILL 'PORT' WITH US ON YOUR NEXT TRIP!"

"That's us Ron!" With that, Hermione pulled Ron into a run, their trunks floating steadily behind them and weaving between other travelers like themselves, with Ron grumbling about a lame motto. Within a minute, the pair arrived at Gate Number 43 and waited with the other wizards and witches to get to the United States. Shortly, the booming voice sounded again.

"WIZARDS AND WITCHES, PLEASE HAVE YOUR PORTKEY AT THE READY WITH EVERYONE IN YOUR PARTY TOUCHING IT. AT THE COUNT OF TEN, YOU SHALL ARRIVE AT YOUR DESTINATION SHORTLY. HAVE AN ENJOYABLE TRIP. TEN… NINE… EIGHT…"

Hermione looked at her husband, face flushed with excitement. "I can't wait to see Harry!"

"SIX… FIVE…"

"You know he won't be happy to see us though. Knowing him, he'll make it as difficult as possible not to mention we have to find him first." If it was even possible, Hermione's face seemed to brighten.

"I know! But we just have to see him! It's been years!"

"TWO…"

Ron nodded his agreement as the two tightened their grips on the empty butterbeer bottle that was their portkey.

"ONE."

And with that, everyone in the vicinity disappeared to their destination, a pair significantly closer to a missed and no-longer missing Harry Potter.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

**A/N**: Remember to review and thanks for reading!


End file.
